Starting Again
by hooksandheroics
Summary: Two weeks, he was there wallowing in the heart ache that is the accident of one Quinn Fabray. Then, he realizes something.


Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since the accident. Two weeks of watching her lie on that hospital bed as if that was where she belongs. Two weeks of trying to suppress the budding anger and heart ache in his chest just to try and squeeze out the remaining hope in him.

He tried, you know. He tried to so hard to tell people that he's okay, that she'll wake up despite the probability that the doctor gave her. He tried to tell people that she's a strong girl and that she'll get through this. But despite how much he said those things, there still was something in his heart that broke everyday he visited her that sprouts out when he observes how steadily her chest heaves as it responds to the machines connected to her body.

He hated himself. He hated himself for no reason at all and his hatred made him hate himself even more. What could he have done, right? The more he tried to stray away from thoughts about her, the more he lingered and the more his heart broke.

So, he sang.

He sang to her every day, holding her hand and squeezing it lightly, waiting for a response. He was hoping she could hear him despite her comatose state. Maybe the notes, the melody, his voice would bring life to her.

He hoped.

But, no matter how hard he tried, whenever he finishes a song for her, he would tear up and it would bring him to thinking that she might not hear him, that this effort to sing to her is a desperate measure.

_My heart was talking to my head,  
>said, "I've loved once,<br>I'll never love again."_

_And my head in this replied,  
>"I'll miss her, too, she was easy in the eyes."<em>

_Now all they do,  
>is look around for you,<br>and every night,  
>with their lids closed tight,<br>they're lost in dreams,  
>that they'll awake and see,<br>you lying next to me._

He was biting his lip, trying so hard not to cry for the umpteenth time. He kept telling himself, "not this time," but he was already tearing up.

He sang softly to her ear as he sat beside her hospital bed, clutching her hand. Intertwining their fingers, because he felt like it was the right thing to do.

_And my feet could feel it in their soles,  
>we've gone too far, we'll never make it home,<br>and these hands they felt the same,  
>they held her once, but they let her slip away.<em>

His heart leapt. Was it his imagination? Or did he feel her hand move? Twitch? Did it move? Did she hear him?

_Now all I do is look around for you,  
>and every night, with my eyes closed tight,<br>I'm lost in dreams that I'll awake and see,  
>you lying next to me.<em>

Was he dreaming? He heard a noise from her, some sound made from the back of her throat. Or were his ears playing a trick on him?

No, he wasn't dreaming. It was real.

She stirred and opened her eyes gingerly, scanning the room for a few seconds before settling her eyes on the hand that held hers tightly.

Somehow, somewhat, she found her voice and it was the first time in two weeks that he had heard it. Which made him unutterably really happy, another emotion that he had seemed to have forgotten two weeks ago.

"Where am I?" was what she said, but Sam smiled at that. It just meant that she was fine, she was alright. She's alive, she's here, and she's real.

"You're in the hospital, Quinn," he replied, somehow forgetting that he was holding her hand in a vice-like grip. He loosened his grasp. He didn't care anymore that she was watching him cry.

"… Quinn?" she responded weakly.

Then, it hit him like a ton of solid bricks. He remembered what the doctor had said.

"_She suffered severe head trauma. If she lives, she might have some of her memories erased, but don't worry, it will only be temporary."_

"Yeah, Quinn Fabray," he said, trying his best to hide the pain in his chest by smiling, "that's your name. I'm Sam Evans… someone from your past."

She moved, and opted to shake hands with him, an act that brings light to the grim situation. She might've forgotten about some things, but she was still smart.

"Hello, Sam Evans, someone from my past," she said, smiling. "So is this amnesia, like, long-term or short-term only?"

He was utterly shocked. But, he answered anyway. "The doctor said it will only be temporary."

She lay back on her bed and giggled.

"What now?" he asked, trying to figure her out.

What is with this girl? She was in an accident, she woke up with a stranger beside her hospital bed, and then she was laughing?

"I don't know," she replied. "But, when I was asleep, I was dreaming about things I don't remember now, but I remember one thing. Someone was singing to me, like I was inside a playlist. The voice, it's soothing. It's like, it's what held me back. Was that you?"

He grinned like a fool and nodded, "You heard me?"

"Yes," she said, grinning as wide as he was. "It's beautiful. Are you in some kind of band? Or a choir, perhaps?"

His heart ached again.

"As a matter of fact, I am," he said, "with you. We're in glee club, a show choir called 'New Directions'."

"Oh," she said, quite perked up by the fact. "Can you tell me about my… past? The things I can't remember?"

He raised his brows and chuckled lightly. "Okay, as I said, we're in glee club. You, uh, love everybody in the glee club. We were the first persons you told about your acceptance in Yale. You were also accepted again for the Cheerios with your monstrosity of a coach, Sue Sylvester—

She laughed, "Oh yes, I remember Coach Sylvester very much. But, I can't remember why I'm here. Was I drunk driving or something?"

He looked down, "No, you're not. Uh, we won Regionals against Dalton and some other school I don't even remember the name of. But, before we went onstage, Rachel announced her wedding with Finn and asked all of us to attend. She made you her bridesmaid. You were already on the road, maybe hurrying a little because you were late, and then, a car hit yours and _this_ happened."

"Oh," she muttered. "The wedding? How did it go?"

He laughed again, because it's funny. People were pining for it to cease because not all were amused by this seemingly too early wedding and Quinn, she was the hero of all by stopping the ceremony.

"It… did not go," he said, "you stopped it. You weren't really fine with it. You thought that Rachel and Finn were meant to be, but matrimony was too early."

"Is that so?" she reckoned, trying to remember who Rachel was and who this Finn person is. "What were they to me? Finn and Rachel?"

"Finn, you two are great friends," he replied, "but you were closer to Rachel. You were kind of like best friends. When the accident happened, she was devastated and blamed herself most of the time. She must be one of the most frequent visitors here—

"Besides you, of course," she interjected. "I hear you almost every day…"

He smiled in appreciation.

There was silence, and it made him realize one thing. This accident, it made him realize something.

_I'm still in love with Quinn Fabray._

It kept repeating in his head and it would not let him be. It was hard and cold and very much like iced water pouring down on him.

"What if…" she started, and then looked to him with something in her eyes that he could not point out. "What if all these things, this accident, this _severe head trauma _were some kind of intervention? What if I'm supposed to start something new? I'm sure I don't quite remember everything about by life right now, but what if this is a sign?

"I know I have a daughter," she continued, "but I don't remember her entirely. I know I have friends, but I don't know their names. All I know is that _you _are here.

"Start something new with me?"

Those words, are they real? Or, was he dreaming? If he was, then okay, he'd say this anyway. But, if he's not, then what wrong would it make, right?

So, he said, "Quinn, I loved you and I still am in love with you. If starting something new with you will be what would make you happy, then I'm all for it. But, remember, you, forgetting me or what we've been through will not make me love you any less."

She smiled calmly. It was this smile that captivated him before. It was genuine and angelic.

His heart skipped a beat when she inched closer to him, millions of thoughts racing to his mind, but none too coherent to make notice.

"Where do we start?" she whispered, her breath on his lips. "What about we start here?"

And then, they kissed. It was slow and passionate and it sent heat waves through his body, but his heart was beating madly through his chest.

It was then, after that, that he called the doctor to inform him that she's finally awake.


End file.
